The
BJP is associated with a network of organisations, often referred collectively
as the Sangh Parivar (Family of Associations).' In this sense, the successful
maintenance of a coalition led by an explicitly religious nationalist political
party has a direct bearing on the literature on coalition formation and
maintenance.

The Sangh Parivar,
includes three frontline groups, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS,
National Organisation of Volunteers), the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP, World
Hindu Council), and an associated student organisation called the Akhil
Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad (ABVP, All India Student's Council). The Hindu
nationalist agenda is also pushed forth by ancillary organisations that
are not commonly associated with religios fundamentalist groups, such as
labour unions, think tanks or rural development organisations. For instance,
the Sangh Parivar includes a very prominent trade union, the Bharatiya
Mazdoor Sangh (BMS, Indian Workers Union), which at times has been active
in voicing its opposition to foreign economic linkages. Likewise, RSS affiliates
such as the Seva Vibhag (SV, Service Department), the Bharat Vikas Parishad
(BVP) and the Vanvasi Kalyan Ashram (VKA) are nongovernmental organisations
that have been active in working with India's tribal communities. Finally,
the Vidhya Bhararti (VB, Indian Enlightenment) are a network of schools.
The Deendayal Research Institute (DRI) has undertaken research work on
rural development.

The failure
of the BJP Government in Gujarat and the leadership in New Delhi to take
decisive action against rioters can be seen to have been a key factor in
the escalation of communal violence in that state. This was a clear violation
of the manifesto commitment of the NDA, yet there was only muted protest
from the coalition partners of the BJP. While the TDP leader, Chandrababu
Naidu, called for the removal of the Gujarat Chief Minister Narendra Modi,
and Mamata Banerjee boycotted a meeting of the NDA Co-ordination Committee,
there was only one resignation from government over the issue (Ram Vilas
Paswan UD ). A censure motion in the Lok Sabha on the Government's handling
of the Gujarat massacres was comfortably defeated (276 votes to 182), despite
the abstention of the TDP. The explanation appears to be grounded in perceptions
of the electoral impact at the state level. First, in Gujarat the BJP fought
against the INC on its own, and so the Gujarat massacres did not recast
the nature of party competition. Second, the electoral reson­ance of the
events was unclear, and there appeared to be no significant backlash against
the BJP. Indeed, the state assembly elections that fol­lowed the massacres
saw the BJP government returned to power in Gujarat, and the 2004 national
elections saw little evidence that the events led to a national vote swing
against the BJP (A. Datar,`A vote for secular politics', The Hindu, 20
May, 2004: AE-2).

The 2004 general
election showed the continuing success of parties organised on a purely
regional basis. The importance of such parties, measured by their ability
to win seats in the national parliament, means that neither the BJP nor
the INC could hope to form a government without the co-operation of regional
parties. From alliance building, to government formation, and portfolio
allocation, the role of state-focussed partners continues to play a major
part in the democratic government of India. This influence leads to outcomes
which are contrary to some of the basic expectations of coalition theory.
While a minimal winning coalition may be an optimal outcome, this is subject
to satisfying the demands of alliance partners, and the high price that
can be exacted by a coalition member holding a pivotal position. This can
lead to the construction of larger-than-minimal coalitions to support a
government in Parliament. The endurance of a coalition is largely determined
by the state-level context; with partnerships based on a common interest
within competitive state-wide party systems. Coalition partners ability,
or even desire, to affect national politics, are largely dependent on the
perceived impact on particular states. The ability to distribute benefits
and direct national policy through control of the government in New Delhi
plays a subsidiary role, evinced by the reluctance of some parties to accept
ministerial posts and simply support from `outside'. This leads to a situation
where the coalition supporting the government is oversized, but the sub-set
of this coalition actually taking ministerial offices (and the other direct
perks of central government) is often smaller than the minimal size.

The NDA Government
from 1999 to 2004, was the first national coalition government in India
to complete a full, five-year term in office. The very stability of the
NDA Government, with the BJP core surrounded by numerous state-based parties,
was remarkable in itself. Part of the explana­tion was the experience
gained from earlier failed attempts at coalition management and the conciliatory
leadership of Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee. A more powerful reason,
however, was the effect of the pragmatic electoral alliances that provided
an element of common inter­est between the BJP and its coalition partners.
The segmented nature of the electoral arena meant that some parties were
situated within the coali­tion, while others were content to support from
`outside' , and parties such as the Trinamul Congress moved between these
positions. Portfolio allocation and policy direction were determined by
the balance between the broad interests of the BJP and the state-specific
interests of coalition partners. This balance fluctuated according to the
cycle of national and state elections. While coalition partners were able
to exercise some influence over national policies, this did not extend
to holding the BJP to account for its failure to prevent the Gujarat massacres
of 2002; the most flagrant violation of the conciliatory manifesto which
was supposed to provide a common policy platform.

The nineteenth
century witnessed the rapid development of modern Hinduism. Various modern-style
organisations, established and run largely by middle class Hindus, were
influential in this process. They contributed to the emergence of the idea
of Hinduism as an objective phenomenon, comparable to other, similar phenomena
(the `world's religions'). It is widely understood that such organisations,
and their ideas about Hin­duism as an objective phenomenon, developed
as a form of cultural resis­tance to colonial rule. Swami Vivekananda,
for example, was the leader of the innovative Ramakrishna Math and Mission.
In 1893, he spoke in Chicago at the self-styled `World Parliament of Religions'.
There he explained how India's spiritual traditions could provide salvation
to the Western world, which had become manifestly alienated and debased
because of the extent of capitalist development. Vivekananda spoke as a
representative of Hinduism. In common with many others at this time, he
implicitly invoked the idea of Hinduism as a concrete reality, even if
the parameters - the shape - of that reality were by no means a settled
fact. Indeed, debates over the shape of the religion during this period
were themselves a powerful force in the invocation of objectified Hinduism
(Zavos The Emergence of Hindu Nationalism in India, New Delhi: Oxford University
Press. 2000).

Vivekananda's
stance at Chicago is indicative of what Partha Chatterjee (The Nation and
its Fragments: Colonial and Post-colonial Histories, Princeton: Princeton
University Press,1993: 6) sees as a conceptualisation of two `domains'
by indigenous thinkers during this period: the `outer' domain of materialism
- economy, statecraft, science and technology - which was dominated by
the West; and the `inner' domain of the spirit - the home, the family and
religion - in which India maintained a superior status. This recognition
of spiritual superiority, exemplified by Vivekananda, was critical to the
development of nationalist consciousness in India. It provided a key stimulus
to the emergence of national identity, and thus ensured that Hinduism had
a major role in the fashioning of this identity.

The key political
organisation of Indian nationalism, the INC, was convened in 1885, somewhat
against the grain of these developments in cultural consciousness. In its
first few years it was dominated by an approach which sought to capture
the air of an official opposition to the colonial government. Its statements
were couched in a quasi-parliamentary language and it directed its attention
towards the state, despite its rather weak claim to represent the `Indian
people'. Almost immediately, this approach to nationalism was challenged
by competing voices among the indigenous elite, as well as by non-elite
groups who questioned the right of elites to represent `the people'. In
these dialogues, Hindu symbols and Hindu events were invoked and reinvented
as part of the cultural repertoire of emerging nationalism. Very quickly,
the culture of quasi-parliamentarianism associated with the early Congress
became one among many voices feeding into the national movement, and as
a result, the Congress movement emerged in the twentieth century as a very
broad umbrella-type organisation, accommodating a variety of different
views of the nation.

In such contexts,
the notion that Hindu nationalism and Indian nation­alism formed two distinct
ideologies had little meaning. Despite the emer­gence of the Hindu Sabha
movement in the early twentieth century in north and northwest India, the
lines of opposition between Hindu nation­alism and Congress nationalism
remained only very vaguely drawn. The evidence suggests that there was
a constant blending and borrowing of ideas. This was demonstrated graphically
by the fact that many prominent figures in the INC and the Indian national
movement more generally were also involved in the developing Sabha movement.
For instance, Punjabis Lala Lajpat Rai and Swami Shraddhanand were important
figures in both movements, as well as being prominent Arya Samajists. B.S.
Moonje was involved both in the INC and the emerging Hindu nationalist
movement in Nagpur.

Perhaps the
most famous of these `crossover' figures was V.D. Savarkar, the President
of the Hindu Mahasabha between 1937 and 1943. In earlier years, Savarkar
(The Indian War of Independence 1857, Bombay: Phoenix. 1947) had written
a significant Indian nationalist text about the 1857 rebellion against
the British. He had also been transported for life to the penal colony
of the Andaman Islands in 1910 for his part in a conspiracy to assassinate
two British officials. In the classically heroic Indian nationalist context
of this incarceration, Savarkar was to produce what was to become a seminal
text of Hindu nationalism: Hindutva/Who is a Hindu? (1989). This short
but rather verbose text presented the `Hindu race' as a strong, martial
people, who had been struggling for a thousand years or more with various
foreign invaders from the north and west.

Hindutva/Who
is a Hindu was first published in 1923. In the early 1920s, both nationalist'
mobilisation and communal violence were intensifying. As the profile of
communalism as a political issue expanded, a strain of militant secularism
became increasingly prominent within the Congress-led nationalist movement.
In this view, national liberation was characterised in the classic liberal
democratic sense, namely through the creation of a nation-state governed
by the rule of law, in which issues of culture and religion would be ushered
into the private sphere (Pandey The Construction of Communalism in Colonial
North India, New Delhi: Oxford University Press. 1990: Ch. 7).

The secular
tendency never eroded the different approaches to nationalism which were
extant under the broad umbrella of the INC, but it 0 sustained as a kind
of hegemonic rhetoric within the organisation. During the final years of
British colonial rule in India, the predomi­nance of this rhetoric enhanced
the sense of difference between Congress nationalism and Hindu nationalism
as represented by the Mahasabha and other organisations. In addition, since
the rhetoric of secularism was developed in contradistinction to communalism,
Congress politicians increasingly represented Hindu nationalist ideology
as a form of com­munal ideology.

By emphasising
these developments, my intention is to provide perspective on the developing
structure of political alignments in the post-independence period. Hindu
nationalism became situated as a communal ideology, in contrast to Congress
nationalism, in a manner that marginalised the dialogue, the interaction
and blending of these areas of thought about Indian politics and culture.
Hindu nationalism developed into a kind of trope, which acted to define
or affirm the non-communal creden­tials of the INC, a position which was
only emphasised by the traumas of partition and the assassination of Gandhi.
This process has done much to obscure the embeddedness of Hindu nationalism
in developing ideas about Indian culture and social relations among political
elites. Recognising the shapes of Hindu nationalism, then, means looking
beyond the discourse of communalism and acknowledging the network of contexts
in which key ideas emerged.

As noted above,
Savarkar's text Hindutva/Who is a Hindu was to emerge as a significant
articulation of Hindu nationalist thought. Other key texts have been the
writings of Deendayal Upadhyaya and the work of M.S. Golwalkar, especially
his two books Bunch of Thoughts (1966) and We, or Our Nationhood Defined
(1944).2 Together, these sources provide us with insight into some component
elements in Hindu nationalist thought, but one thing we should emphasise
is this: they do not form a coherent body of work or the consciously progressive
development of an ideological posi­tion. Perhaps this is best illustrated
by the fact that although Savarkar is often described as `the ideological
father of Hindu nationalism' and Hindutva/Who is a Hindu as `the classic
text of Hindu nationalism' (Varshney 2002: 65), one will not generally
find this book in Sangh Parivarbookshops in India, nor will one find reference
to Savarkar on major Sangh websites.3 This is principally because Savarkar
was never a member of the RSS, and therefore cannot, in that organisation's
version of history, be portrayed as too central to the development of Hindu
nationalism. But it also reiterates the fractured quality of this set of
ideas, its existence as a broad field of thought, interacting with other
fields of thought, rather than as a clear ideological programme. In this
section, I want to unpack some of the themes that might help us to identify
the parameters of this field of thought. In doing so, the issue of interaction
will be emphasised; although it is hoped that acknowledging this
interaction will help us to identify a distinctive profile for Hindu nationalist
thought.

(i) Who is a
Hindu? The formulas of nationhood

This question,
which forms part of the title of Savarkar's 1923 work, is at the heart
of ideas of Hindu nationalism. It is a question that may be related directly
to those processes of objectification we have noted above associated with
the development of Hinduism. Indeed, the difficulties experienced by elites
in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century in conceptualising Hinduism
as a religion, and the tensions that subsequently emerged, were highly
influential in the development of major lines of Hindu nationalist thought.
This is because these were, in the absence of any theological coherence,
debates about the parameters of Hinduism as a social phenomenon. Where
one drew the boundaries of Hinduism and how its shape was articulated,
formed key underlying questions in the contest over whether and how the
religion needed to be `reformed' or `regenerated'. Two broad patterns of
response emerged: one which sought to articulate the idea of Hinduism through
the restructuring of society, as exemplified by some elements within the
Arya Samaj; and one which sought to articulate the idea of Hinduism through
the consolidation of the existing structures of society, emphasising the
`organic' unity of the component parts.

Savarkar answers
his own question by emphasising and extending the latter response. Hindutva/Who
is a Hindu? constructs a notion of Hindu nationality that is catholic,
embracing a broad range of religious and cultural systems. This catholicity
is characteristic of the spiritual, universalist approach to Hinduism and
Hindu culture developed in the nineteenth century by figures such as Vivekananda.
At the same time, however, Savarkar's notion works obsessively on the boundaries
of this range, producing some formulaic models through which an individual
or a group may be identified as Hindu or not. There is, for example, the
widely recognised formula of pitribhum-punyabhum (fatherland-holy land)
(Savarkar Hindutva/Who is a Hindu? Bombay: 1989: 111). Whoever can identify
India as both may be considered as Hindu. In consonance with this formula,
he develops the idea of rashtrayat=sanskriti (nation-race-culture), as
components of Hinduness (Savarkar 1989: 116). Identification with the Hindu
race and nation is encompassed by the recognition of pitribhum; whereas
identification with culture is encompassed by the recognition of punyabhum.
On this reckoning, Savarkar's key social exclusions are of Muslims and
Christians, in that they locate their holy land, their cultural identity,
outside India. This formulaic approach has proven to be remarkably resilient,
turning up in later Hindu nationalist works, although not always attributed
to Savarkar.

Golwalkar develops
a similar approach in We, Or Our Nationhood Defined. He developed a formula
based around what he terms the `famous five unities' (We or Our Nation
Defined, Nagpur: Bharat Prakashan 1944: 18) of territory, race, religion,
culture and language. These may be related to the Savarkian formula of
pitribhum (territory, race) - punyabhum (religion, culture, language),
and they follow the same pattern of emphasising a broad, catholic approach
to cultural and religious iden­tity, while identifying exclusions in a
quite uncompromising manner. Golwalkar also identifies Muslims and Christians
as key exclusions, although he moves on to encompass communists as anti-national
or an `internal threat' (Golwalkar Bunch of Thoughts, Bangalore: Vikram
Prakashan 1966: 187ff.). This reflects a developing concern, in the immediate
pre- and post-Independence era, with the strength of the left in Indian
politics.

The quality
of inclusion and exclusion formulas identifying Hinduness forms the basis
for a consistent area of Hindu nationalist action: resisting conversion.
The critical exclusions exemplified in the pitribhumpunyabhum formula mean
that conversion to Islam or Christianity amounts to a process of 'de-nationalisation'.
Indeed, this term was used by the RSS organiser, Kishore Kant, to describe
the activities of Christian missionaries in northeastern states during
the 1990s (The Asian Age 1998: 1 January). At the same time, there has
always been recognition of the vulnerability of certain groups to the `threat'
of conversion. These are principally low caste and tribal groups, those
who exist on the fuzzy margins of Hinduness - in a way that Savarkar would
have regarded as anathema - and who suffer oppression precisely because
of their status within Hindu society (Zavos Conversion and the assertive
margirts: an analysis of Hindu nationalist discourse and the recent attacks
on Indian Christians', South Asia, 24(2):73-89. 2001).

The success
of conversion campaigns among low caste or tribal groups, then, appears
both as an indication of the fragility of Hindu society, and a confirmation
of fears about the erosion of Hindu identity. As such, resisting conversion
has always been a key concern of Hindu nationalism because it operates
as a means of affirming and consolidating the idea of a broad notion of
Hindu identity, on the basis of the pitribhum-punyabhum and other associated
formulas.

(ii) Hinduness
- a question of culture

In a rather
paradoxical fashion, we can see that as well as rationalising exclusion,
the formulaic approach is designed to encompass a broad range of traditions,
including such historically resistant traditions as Buddhism and Jainism.
Savarkar is able to do this because he begins with the idea that Hinduness
- or Hindutva as he coins it - is not so much a reli­gious as a cultural
signifier, based on an identified continuity of blood in the Hindu `race'.
`Hinduism,' he says, `is only a derivative, a fraction, a part of Hindutva'
(1989: 3). Through this distinction, Savarkar is able to go on to construct
a grand, catholic vision of Hindu identity as diverse, yet unthreatened
by that diversity. The diversity itself is perceived as characteristic
of Hindu culture.

As a model of
cultural development, we can relate this idea to some classic accounts
of Indian syncretism and tolerant, such as Jawaharlal Nehru's Discovery
of India. Nehru notes that `the mind of India' has been occupied for millennia
by `some kind of a dream of unity'. Within this idea of unity, he states
that `the widest tolerance of belief and custom was practiced and every
variety acknowledged and even encouraged' (1985: 62). Of course, Nehru
is insistent on embracing Muslim and Christian communities within this
model, but the premise of `unity in diversity' is similar to that of Savarkar.
The latter's ideas about Hindu culture, then, to a certain extent reflect
a broader discourse about the Indian nation.

Interestingly,
Golwalkar almost reverses Savarkar's formulation of the relationship between
Hinduism and Hinduness. He claims that culture is `but a product of our
all-comprehensive Religion, a part of its body and not distinguishable
from it' (1944: 22). This difference is partly explained by the use of
contrasting conceptions of religion. Savarkar works with a narrow definition
of religion, based on the idea of individual commitment and spiritual fulfilment.
Golwalkar works with a different kind of concept altogether, a broad, all-encompassing
concept, which provides a kind of framework for belief, culture and social
organisation. Indeed, Golwalkar criticises the narrow conception of religion
in We or Our Nationhood Defined. It is possible that this critique is aimed
at Savarkar, the `secular Hindu'; certainly there is a reverse echo of
Savarkar's statement quoted above, when Golwalkar states that the individual
spiritual fulfilment view is `but a fractional part of Religion' (1944:
23).

Golwalkar's
conception of religion is rather as a broad framework, which `by regulating
society in all its functions, makes room for all individual idiosyncrasies,
and provides suitable ways and means for all sorts of mental frames to
adapt, and evolve' (1944: 23). Golwalkar, then, is equally able to encompass
diversity in the tradition, by broadening the idea of religion in the context
of India and articulating it as `the elastic frame­work of our dharma'
(1966: 101). It is this very elasticity, he goes on, which operates to
`protect and maintain the integrity of our people', as various sects had
emerged to counter threats to the framework; Sikhism, for example, `came
into being to contain the spread of Islam in Punjab' (1966: 103). This
is highly reminiscent of Savarkar's idea of diversity as a defining feature
of Hindu culture.

Ultimately,
both Savarkar and Golwalkar produce approaches that attempt to resolite
the threat posed by doctrinal diversity and fragmentation within Hindu
identity by reference to `framework' ideas, which endorse this diversity
as archetypal. This approach, following Savarkar's articulation, has emerged
in contemporary Hindu nationalism as a valorisation of Hindu culture; indeed,
despite the tension noted between Savarkar and the Sangh Parivar, the idea
of Hindutva has been fully adopted and is used freely in Sangh literature
(although again, it is rarely attributed to Savarkar).

What, though,
characterises this framework of Hindu culture or Hinduty*Both Savarkar
and Golwalkar locate the idea of Hinduness by reference to history. Even
taking into account its diversity, Hinduness is rooted in Aryan civilisation
and the establishment of the Vedic tradition. According to Savarkar, there
was a gradual expansion of Aryan influence, leading eventually to the religious,
cultural and political unification of the subcontinent under Lord Ram (1989:
11-12).

These then followed
periods of relative Hindu and Buddhist ascendancy, which in turn were superseded
by the `human sahara' of Muslim incursion, the beginning of a long period
of struggle to maintain Hindu identity in the face of `foreign invasion'
(1989: 42-6). This interpretation of history was based on some familiar
elements of nineteenth- and twentieth-century Hindu worldviews. The idea
of the Vedic civilisation of the Aryans was used as a reference point by
a whole host of movements and individuals involved in conceptualising Indian
religion and society (e.g. Dayananda, Jotiba Phule); Ram Rajya also had
a distinctive resonance as indicative of perfect governance and a harmonious
society (e.g. Gandhi). And the idea of `Muslim' rule creating a decisive
break in Indian history was most familiar, and had been institutionalised
in James Mill's influential early nineteenth-century History of British
India (1817). There is nothing distinctive, then, in the use of these ideas
to characterise the quality of Hinduness. They serve again to emphasise
the embeddedness of the Hindu nationalist approach in developing ideas
about Indian culture during the first half of the twen­tieth century.

This version
of history is nevertheless used as the basis for the development of some
further key elements of Hinduness as Indian culture. Perhaps most significant
is the valorisation of the geography of India.' This key feature is clearly
indicated by the emphasis on the land in Savarkar's pitribhum-punyabhum
formula. He writes:

Yes, this Bharat
bhumi, this land of ours that stretches from Sindhu to Sindhu is our Punyabhumi,
for it was in this land that the Founders of our faith and the seers to
whom `Veda' the Knowledge was revealed, from Vaidik seers to Dayananda,
from Jina to Mahavir, from Buddha to Nagasen, from Nanak to Govind, from
Banda to Basava, from Chakradhar to Chaitanya, from Ramdas to Rammohun,
our Gurus and Godmen were born and bred. The very dust of its paths echoes
the footfalls of our Prophets and Gurus. (Savarkar 1989: 112)

Here, Savarkar
articulates archetypal diversity as indicative of Hinduness through the
land itself - the dust of its paths is representative of Hindu culture.
Golwalkar, who delineates Bharat as `a land with divinity ingrained in
every speck of its dust ... the holiest of the holy, the centre of our
utmost devotion' (1966: 86), reiterates this kind of reverential approach.
Again, this reverence is present in a broader dlourse on the Indian nation
during this period. Varshney has used the example of Jawaharlal Nehru's
will, in which he expresses a desire for some of his ashes to be thrown
into the Ganga, because that river has been `a symbol of India's age-long
culture and civilization, ever-changing, ever-flowing, and yet ever the
same Ganga' (Ethnic Conflict and Civic Life: Hindus and Muslims in India,
New Haven: Yale University Press. 2002: 63).

Varshney makes
a distinction between Nehru's view of the river, and that encompassed by
Hindu nationalism, on the basis that Nehru's vision of sacred geography
was `metaphorical', rather than `literal'. The quality of this distinction
is not clear, particularly since he goes on to say that the `emotions and
attachment generated by the geography were equally intense' (2002: 63).
Rather than emphasising difference, we can see here again the way in which
Hindu nationalist thought has emerged within a broader complex of ideas
about the emerging nation, and that the idea of polarisation between these
ideas is apparently untenable.

One further
aspect of Hinduness as Indian culture needs emphasising at this point.
This is the focus on Ram and Sita, the heroes of the Ramayana, as archetypal
Indians. There has been a fair amount of work in recent years on the developing
ways in which these figures have been represented in art, film and other
media. The emphasis of this work has been on the representation of Ram
as a martial hero, defending the honour of Hinduism with the aid of a mighty
bow (Kapur 1993). Sita has operated increasingly as the site of that defence,
a meek and pure individual who needs protection from violation (Basu `Feminism
inverted: the gender imagery and real women of Hindu nationalism', in T.
Sarkar and U. Butalia (eds) Women and the Hindu Right: A Colection of Essays,
New Delhi: Kali for Women1995: 158-80.). In the context of Hindutva, these
figures are national, rather than religious. Hence, the desire in recent
times to build a temple at the proclaimed `birthplace' of Ram in Ayodhya
is perceived as a national project, and resistance to this project is interpreted
as anti-national, regardless of your religious persuasion.

This valorisation
of Ram and Sita is indicative of a wider point on the idea of Hinduness
or Hindutva. It denotes a set of ideas that is consciously articulated
as cultural, rather than religious, and yet there is constant slippage
into what we might perceive as more clearly religious territory. On the
one hand, this appears to be a reflection of slippage in the original pitribhumi-punyabhumi
formulation, which claims to include on the basis of cultural space, but
clearly excludes on the basis of religious identity. On the other hand,
it is also a reflection of the problematic identification of Hindu nationalism
as religious nationalism, if religion is defined as a discrete category,
in the manner critiqued by Golwalkar as noted above. To an extent, this
is a set of ideas that exists in broader discursive fields than those signified
by such a category.

(iii) Sangathan
-ordering society

Nothing demonstrates
this latter point more clearly than what has emerged as the most influential
organisation propagating Hindu nationalism during the twentieth century:
the RSS. As is well documented, the Sangh emerged in the mid-1920s with
specific cultural objectives. It was established in Nagpur in Central Provinces,
a city with a minimal Muslim minority, and its first formal public action
was at the Ram Navami festival at nearby Ramtek. The Sangh volunteers,
led by the founder of the organisation Dr. KB. Hedgewar, engaged in a form
of crowd control, enforcing queues, providing drinking water, and keeping
an eye on commercial activity at the festival, among other tasks.

This first public
action is interesting because it exemplifies two significant features of
Hindu nationalist thought. First, as we have just noted, Ram was an important
cultural symbol of the nascent Hindu nation. Here was an intervention in
a festival dedicated to Ram. However, the Sangh was apparently not interested
in the form of religious practice articulated at the mela (festival); rather,
it pursued the objective of establishing a sense of order within this environment.
Not only does this reiterate the idea of the focus on Ram as a cultural,
rather than an explicitly religious symbol, it also points us towards the
second significant feature: the estab­lishment of a sense of order, discipline
and organisation in Hindu social and cultural relations. This idea, expressed
in Hindi as sangathan, has emerged as a fundamental Hindu nationalist concern.

The specific
trajectory of this concern with discipline and organisation. Sangathan
is significant because it is directed at the organisation of society. A
Hindu nationalist vision of the Hindu nation is intim­ately bound up with
the progressive realisation of a society which operates harmoniously, in
an integrated fashion. Most generally, this vision has been articulated
as a kind of organicist approach: society operates like a body, each component
part having its own valuable function. Golwalkar comments:

All the organs,
though apparently of diverse forms, work for the welfare of the body and
thus subscribe to its strength and growth. Likewise is the case with society.
An evolved society, for the proper functioning of various duties, develops
a multitude of diverse functional groups. Our old social order laid down
a specific duty for each group and guided all the individuals and groups
in their natural line of evolution just as the intellect directs the activities
of the innumerable parts of the body.(1966: 100)

The ideal Hindu,
then, knows his place in this organism. Fulfilling one's function in the
organism, in a disciplined and orderly manner, is each individual's dharmic
duty. Members of thAangh organisation - to a certain extent the swayamsevaks
(volunteers), but more specifically the pracharaks (full-time workers)
- act both as a vanguard working to bring this society into being, and
as examples of how to conduct oneself in accordance with dharma. In fact,
the Sangh itself has been described as a model for Hindu society; the RSS
ideologue M.G. Vaidya, for example, has described the Sangh as `not an
organization in society, but of society' (Zavos 2000: 196).

Such a vision,
of course, entails addressing the issue of caste, and Hindu nationalism
is rather ambivalent on this issue. At times, a fullfledged defence of
the caste system has been articulated; at others, a `return' to varnashrama
dharma5 is advocated; at others, the Sangh's vision is perceived as the
eradication of caste altogether. A consistent element in this position,
however, is a non-confrontational approach to established caste structures.
Any transformation of caste structure is perceived as occurring through
`organic' development, rather than as requiring radical change. This approach
reflects the development of Hindu nationalist thought in high caste, middle
class social groups, and explains the strong antipathy to any forms of
independent low caste assertion (Zavos Conversion and the assertive margins:
an analysis of Hindu nationalist discourse and the recent attacks on Indian
Christians', South Asia, 24(2):73-89.2001).

This refers
us back, of course, to the concerns noted earlier over the shape of Hinduness
in the modern world. The organisation of society emerges as a key means
of articulating this shape. As an institution, the RSS has consistently
focused on this objective and rationalised its actions in relation to it.
Indeed, one way of understanding the Sangh Parivar is as a project to establish
a focused presence within the various spaces of society, with the objective
of demonstrating the Sangh's vision of organisation in microcosm and in
relation to specific issues. Politics and the state may be regarded as
one of the identified spaces.

(iv) Integral
humanism - the politics of social order

The argument
that politics must be seen as a component space within the Hindu nationalist
conception of society is exemplified by the idea of integral humanism.
This term enjoys a prominent profile in the BJP's main website (along with
the notion of Hindutva), and it refers to a set of ideas developed in lie
1950s and 1960s by Deendayal Upadhyaya.6

Upadhyaya was
an RSS pracharak who had been influential in the Bharatiya Jana Sangh since
it was established in 1951 as the Sangh Parivar's first venture into the
world of post-Independence politics. Integral humanism was fully articulated
as a political programme in 1965. In a series of lectures, Upadhyaya sought
to pitch this programme into what he perceived as a sea of cynicism and
opportunism in politics. `Parties and politicians have neither principles
nor aims nor a standard code of conduct,' he opined. In particular, he
pointed to Congress as lacking any kind of ideological coherence. `If there
can be a magic box which contains a cobra and a mongoose,' he continues,
`it is Congress' (1965: Ch. 1).

The set of ideas
which he went on to develop are based around a series of key themes. First,
the need to articulate specifically Indian answers to modern problems (through,
for example, promoting swadeshi and small scale industry); second, the
need for politics to be practised in consonance with the chiti (specific
essence) of the Hindu nation; and lastly, the need to sustain the `natural'
balance between the individual and different institutions in society -
institutions like the family, caste and the state - by acting in accordance
with principles of dharma. This set of themes has been interpreted as an
incorporation of Gandhian idioms into Hindu nationalist politics, in order
to enhance the potential for forging alliances with other anti-Congress
forces, after twenty years of total domination of the polity by that party.
Integral humanism, then, may be interpreted as a means of increasing the
possibilities of power. As it so happens, new possibilities were created
in the late 1960s and early 1970s, particularly in association with the
Gandhian political leader, J.P. Narayan. The involvement of Hindu nationalist
forces in Narayan's anti-Indira agitations undoubtedly gave the Jana Sangh
the credibility to take a share in power in the post-Emergency Janata Party
coalition government . It is quite possible, then, to view this key element
of Hindu nationalist ideology in terms of electoral strategy, a resolve
to bid for power in the late 1960s. A similar interpretation of the VHP
strategy around the issue of the Babri Masjid in the 1980s is also well
established (Jaffrelot The Hindu Nationalist Movement and Indian Politics,
1925 to the 1990s: Strategies of Identity-Building, Implantation and Mobilisation
(with Special Reference to Central India), London: Hurst & Company.
1996). In these interpretations, Hindu nationalism as ideology is framed
to support the primary interest of an organisation or set of organisations
in state power.

The trajectories
of Hindu nationalist thought discussed so far in this chapter, however,
must lead us to consider a different kind of interpretation in relation
to integral humanism. In particular, Upadhyaya's ideas appear to follow
the logic of the emphasis on the organisation of society as a principal
objective. This may be seen in the key role he gave to the concept of dharma
(duty) in his lectures. Dharma, that is, in the same sense noted in relation
to the Hindu nationalist vision of society: a harmonious, integrated system
in which each individual and group has a specific function or duty. Although
Upadhyaya presents dharma as part of an integrated regulation of human
activity based on purushartha (the four universal objectives of humanity),
in his discussion he demonstrates this integration by referring each objective
(and in particular the `worldly', political objectives of artha (gain)
and kama (pleasure) to dharma. 'Dharma,' he says, `defines a set of rules
to regulate the social activity, Artha and Kama, so as to progress in an
integral and harmonious way, and attain not only Kama and Artha but also
Moksha eventually . Without reference to dharma, then, other objectives
may not be reached.

The invocation
of dharma indicates a further articulation of the idea of order or organisation
of society as central to a Wdu nationalist world­view. Upadhyaya interprets
dharma as a kind of dynamic network of inter­related regulations by which
life should be led. It is these regulations that govern social relations.
Upadhyaya seeks authority from the Mahabharata to argue that in the kritayuga
(the first of the four eras of the world), `there was no state or king.
Society was sustained and protected mutually by practicing dharma' (1965:
Ch. 3). In subsequent yugas (epochs), he explains, `disorganisation came
into existence', and as a result, the state was introduced as an additional
form of regulation, but the state was only ever legitimate if it operated
in accordance with dharma. The primacy of society, then, is clear here,
and the state exists as an institution - `an important one, but not above
all other' (1965: Ch. 3) - which is framed and governed by this idea.

This approach
locates integral humanism within the context of developing Hindu nationalist
ideas focused primarily on the transformation of society, rather than viewing
it as an instrumentalist appropriation of Gandhian idioms designed to increase
the possibility of power. There is cer­tainly evidence of the appropriation
of Gandhian idioms, if not ideas, in Upadhyaya's lectures, but what this
demonstrates primarily is interaction in ideas about the development of
society. I have argued elsewhere that Gandhian idioms, ideas, and strategies
were quite significant in the articu­lation of Hindu nationalism in the
1920s (Zav6s 2000: 189-91). This significance was not because of instrumentalist
appropriation, or indeed because Gandhi was a surrogate Hindu nationalist.
Rather, Gandhian ideas and Hindu nationalist ideas developed in the same
discursive spaces, drawing on a similar range of ideas about and experiences
of history, culture and political mobilisation.

Whether in the
1920s or the 1950s, the dialogue between Gandhian and Hindu nationalist
ideas has to be viewed as a straightforward element of the development
of ideological forms. These are, after all, perspectives on the world which
exist primarily in what Stuart Hall has called the `mental frameworks'
of people, both individually and in groups. These individuals and groups
exist in time and space, and they for­mulate their `mental frameworks'
in accordance with the `languages, the concepts, categories, imagery of
thought and systems of representation' which are available to them. In
this context, the blending of ideological forms, the borrowing of idioms
and symbols, the adaptation of existing ideas has to be perceived as the
way in which meaning is constructed.

The structure
of Indian politics, with its sharp division between the secular and the
communal, does not help us to recognise this point.

Recognising
the shapes of Hindu nationalism

A key conclusion
to be drawn from this analysis is that Hindu nationalist ideas about identity,
culture and politics draw on and to some extent reflect the construction
of ideas about the Indian nation and its cultural heritage in the late
nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Nevertheless, I have suggested that
the use of formulas and explicit religious symbols to draw the boundaries
of national identity may be construed as distinctive. Two lines of thought
- the obsessive concern with conversion and the aggressive asser­tion
of ownership over sites projected as sacred - are indicative of this distinctiveness.

Yet even here,
there is a degree of embeddedness in broader fields of thought. Perhaps
the clearest post-independence example of this point is the restoration
of the Somnath temple in 1947/8. This was carried out under the auspices
of an INC government, with the Home Minister Sardar Patel noting that `the
restoration of the idols would be a point of honour and sentiment with
the Hindu public' Jaffrelot 1996: 84). INC involvement in this project
is often perceived as indicative of the presence of `Hindu traditionalists'
in the party, a group who are distinguished from Hindu nationalists through
the comparative weakness of their ideological commitment, or through their
primary concern for the promotion of culture rather than opposition to
the other (both ideas are expressed in Jaffrelot 1996: 83-4). This distinction
is, I feel, rather over-wrought. The ideas underpinning the approach of
Patel and others in the INC during this period are clearly informed by
the same kind of concern for Hinduness overrun by Muslim `invaders' as
those noted earlier as indicative of Hindu nationalism. Again, we get an
indication of the fuzzy boundaries of this field of thought, rather than
its clear distinctiveness from Congress nationalism.

Conversion issues
also indicate a broader reach for ideas associated with Hindu nationalism
than the formal organisations of the Sangh Parivar. The conversion of some
Dalits to Islam in Meenakshipuram in 1981 is a good example of this, in
that the concerns expressed about this event were far broader than those
generated by the Sangh. Jaffrelot notes that `leading articles in newspapers
not known for their support of Hindu nationalism suggested that the converts
had been paid sums of money', and that the whole process had been sponsored
by rich Arab nations inspired by pan-Islamism (1996: 341). This view was
also taken by certain sections of the INC Government, and the Indian Express
published a poll revealing that as many as 78 per cent of north Indian
urban Hindus wanted the government to ban conversions in the wake of Meenakshipuram
(Jaffrelot 1996: 341). Such figures, of course, need to be taken with a
pinch of salt, but these responses do indicate again a degree of embeddedness
of some key ideas associated with Hindu nationalism in Indian political
life. The shapes of Hindu nationalism, in this sense, are not The shapes
of Hindu nationalism necessarily constrained by the limits of the Sang-Parivar
and other overtly Hindu nationalist organisations.

A further conclusion
concerns the focus on society rather than the state, through the realisation
of correct dharma. Formal politics and the control of the state is significant,
but it needs to be placed within the context of this broader focus, which
conceptualises society as a range of segmented areas and `functional groups',
as Golwalkar would have it. This point is graphically demonstrated by the
network of organisations that constitute the Sangh Parivar. These organisations
focus on a variety of issues, from tribal welfare to education to labour
relations, and this is an expanding network across areas of social and
cultural life.

The RSS - the
`parent organisation' - maintains a loose, rather infor­mal sense of control
over the Sangh network. The current sarsanghchalak (leader) of the RSS,
KS. Sudarshan, explained the relationship in a recent interview. `For the
overall development of society', full time RSS workers are encouraged to
enter `different fields according to their abilities'. Their general objective
is common: `to try to find solutions to prob­lems in those assigned areas,
under the Hindutva ideology'. Although the organisations are independent,
Sudarshan continues, the RSS maintains a guiding relationship with its
workers, who remain swayamsevaks (RSS cadre) (Outlook 2003: 30 June). It
is well known, for example, that the Prime Minister and his deputy during
the NDA's tenure, A.B. Vajpayee and L.K Advani, have remained as swayamsevaks.
Other key figures in the BJP, for example, Gopinath Munde and Murli Manohar
Joshi, have also followed this path. Key leaders in the VHP, such as the
international secretary, Ashok Singhal, are also swayamsevaks, as are other
key Sangh figures such as the leader of the Swadeshi Jagran Manch (SJM,
an affiliate of the RSS set up in 1992 to oppose economic liberalisation),
Dattopant Thengadi.

Joshi and Singhal
demonstrate the route taken by ambitious swayamsevaks. Joshi joined the
RSS, at the age of 10, in 1944. While pursuing academic studies, which
culminated in a PhD in Spectroscopy from Allahabad University, he became
increasingly involved in the Sangh's student organisation, the ABVP, achieving
the status of General Secretary of this organisation in the early 1950s.
In 1957, he joined the Bharatiya Jana Sangh and enjoyed increasing prominence
in the Uttar Pradesh hierarchy of this organisation; before becoming General
Secretary of the BJP in the 1980s, President in the early 1990s, and a
key cabinet minister in Vajpayee's admin­istration, first as Home Minister,
then taking charge of three ministries: Human Resources Development (including
education), Science and Technology and Ocean Development. It is in the
HRD ministry where he has really made his mark, instigating policy initiatives
in the education sector, which demonstrate the Sangh's desire to shape
national consciousness.7

Singhal also
hails from Uttar Pradesh, having been born in Allahabad in 1927. He also
pursued a technical education, achieving a BSc from Benares Hindu University
in Metallurgical Engineering. He joined the RSS as a swayamsevak, before
becoming a pracharak (full-time worker), and eventually being assigned
to the VHP in 1980. At this dynamic period of the organisation's history,
Singhal rose quickly to become its general secretary in 1986. Singhal later
indicated the role the RSS had to play in the development of different
areas of social life by calling them `ascetics in the real sense'. He identified
`service' as `the key word of our culture, and Sangh's swayamsevaks are
symbols of service. Today in all spheres of activity such workers are needed'
(cited in Katju Vishwa Hindu Parishad and Indian Politics, Hyderabad: Orient
Longman. 2003: 68).

The complexity
of the Sangh network has increased over time, as new institutional layers
are created. For example, the VHP established the Bajrang Dal, initially
as a sort of youth wing. Over time, the Bajrang Dal has developed into
a kind of confrontational front for the VHP, providing foot soldiers in
key campaigns such as that over the Ram temple in Ayodhya. The Bajrang
Dal also operates as a continuous activist presence in local situations,
providing its own version of 'socio-religious policing' to guard the honour
of local Hindu girls, protect local cattle and local temples, and so on
(Katju Vishwa Hindu Parishad and Indian Politics, Hyderabad: Orient Longman.
2003: 52). Likewise, the SJM is another organisation which has gone on
to develop more focused organisations, such as the Centre for Bharatiya
Marketing and Development and the Swadeshi Vichar Kendra.'

Given these
developing, dynamic networks, it is not surprising that the Sangh has developed
a diversity of approaches to the idea of `finding solu­tions to problems'
using 'Hindutva ideology'. Nothing has brought this diversity into focus
more than the period of NDA rule. The BJP's perceived inability to find
the kind of solutions demanded by different Sangh organisations has induced
sharp criticism. Ashok Singhal, for example, commented in 2003 that 'Atal
and Advani have backstabbed the VHP' because of the government's reticence
over temple construction in Ayodhya (Free Press journal 2003). Also in
2003, national convenor of the SJM, Muralidhar Rao, described the Vaj­payee
government's economic policies as `dubious, deviant, diluted', particularly
in relation to disinvestment and the World Trade Organisation (Telegraph
(Calcutta) 2003). As a result of this divergence, the BJP was not able
to rely fully on the grassroots cadre of other Sangh organisations during
the 2004 general election campaign. At the BJP's National Executive meeting
held in July 2004 to review election performance, L.K. Advani stated that
there had been `a sense of alienation in our Parivar and a weakening of
the emotional bond with our core constituency' .

As if to reinforce
this point organisations such as the SJM and the VHP have shed few tears
at the fall of the NDA Government. Muralidhar Rao has gone so far as to
welcome the Common Minimum Programme of the incoming INC-led United Progressive
Alliance, commenting that the NDA had `lost touch with the masses' . It
appears from this evidence, then, that the constraints of coalition government
have caused a fracturing - and therefore weakening - of Hindu nationalism
as a political force.

The arguments
presented here, however, suggest that any assessment of the influence of
Hindu nationalism in political terms needs to recognise that this is a
set of ideas which is located in a much broader space than that represented
by the BJP. Because they overlap and blend with other key discourses on
Indian society, culture and identity, these are ideas which are manifested
in a wide range of political actions and articulations. In addition, the
focus identified here on social relations and social devel­opment demands
a broader understanding of what constitutes politics. For example, in tribal
areas of states such as Madhya Pradesh and Orissa, the Sangh affiliate
Vanvasi Kalyan Parishad has been increasingly active, reshaping tribal
religious practices within a Hindu framework. In the arena of education,
the Sangh now has a network of schools, many run by the Vidya Bharati Akhil
Bharatiya Shiksha Sansthan. The Vidya Bharati system supervises over 18,000
schools across India, with 1.8 million students and 80,000 teachers focusing
on Sanskrit, moral and spiritual education, yoga and physical development.'
The political impact of Hindu nationalism really needs to be measured in
terms of its continu­ing activism in such arenas, where politics is manifested
not in terms of formal state institutions, but as a contest for power in
a network of localised institutions and practices (Zavos et al. `Deconstructing
the nation: politics and cultural mobilization in India', in J. Zavos,
A. Wyatt and V. Hewitt (eds) Politics of Cultural Mobilization in India,
New Delhi: Oxford University Press: 1-16. 2004: 3).

An approach
which focuses on the political impact of organisations such as Vidya Bharati
can also help us to locate Hindu nationalism in the context of government.
It is no coincidence that one of the most significant areas of policy development
during the NDA's tenure has been in the area of education. From the National
Council for Educational Research and Training (NCERT) to the Indian Council
for Historical Research, Hindu nationalist approaches have been vigorously
promoted; further reshaping ideas about Indian history and society in a
wide range of schools, colleges and universities.10 In order to recognise
Hindu nationalism as a feature of the NDA Government, then, we need to
look particularly at those policy areas, such as education, which impact
on the structure and development of social relations.

Hindu nationalism
continues to be an influential force in the development of worliviews in
India, through the interaction and overlap of ideas as highlighted above,
and the vigorous, diversifying development of Sangh activities through
its affiliate organisations. In the final analysis, the shapes of Hindu
nationalism cannot really be contained in the arena of formal politics.
Recognising the impact of Hindu nationalism means looking beyond this arena,
beyond the state and the immediate problems posed by coalition politics,
to the ways in which its key ideas resonate in the broad spaces of Indian
social and cultural life.

1 See, for example,
The Hindu'BJP preparing to return to Hindutva agenda?', The Hindu, 24 June,2002.

2 In more recent
years, the ideas extant in these texts have been developed by ideologues
such as Sita Ram Goel, Ram Swarup, H.V. Seshadri and P. Parameswaran, in
a succession of cheaply produced pamphlets and larger works distributed
through the network of the Sangh Parivar.

3 This is largely
the case, even though during 2003 and 2004 there have been successive disputes
between the BJP and its opponents over Savarkar's status as a national
figure and a freedom fighter.

4 See VC Jaffrelot
From Indian territory to Hindu Bhoomi: the ethnicisation of nation-state
mapping in India', in J. Zavos, A. Wyatt and V. Hewitt (eds) Politics of
Cultural Mobilization in India, New Delhi, Oxford University Press. 2004:
197-215.

5 Trans. Order
of society in accordance with the duties of the four classes and the four
stages of life.